To FOB or not to FOB?

Hi Joonies,

Let’s talk about the advantages and disadvantages of dating FOBs.

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First, a basic definition to start off with so we’re all clear as to who this concerns:

F.O.B – (n) an acronym for “Fresh Off the Boat”, and refers to new immigrants to a country (mostly Western). Now commonly used to describe any person new to a country, who is not well versed with its language or culture (mainly Western). Can be taken as an insult, or a term of endearment (eg; pride of culture).”

PRO: They speak the mother tongue so well, and it gets you kind of hot when you guys are alone. And you know that amazing ‘Farsi/Persian‘ skills means a slam dunk with the parents.

CON: But then you realize that they have a Persian accent when they speak English, and that just makes you feel all self-conscious when you bring him around your friends. (and let’s be honest, you can never convince yourself that the accent is sexy.)

PRO: They seem to still have some old school culture and chivalry, and that makes you feel warm and lady-like– I mean, a man with manners who picks up the tab is always sexy.

CON: But some of that chivalry just turns out to be chauvinism and ….

PRO: In their lives, FOB guys have had it pretty rough and left everything they’ve known to come to a new country with a new culture. They’ve proved they can stand on their own two feet.– DAMN. #Respect

CON: BUT, they may be on the prowl for a woman just so she can replace his mom. He could be missing the warm meals and clean laundry. (watch out!)

PRO: Finally, there’s so much they can teach you about a part of your culture that you never got to experience because you’ve never spent more than a vacation’s time in Iran.

That, arguably, could be priceless.

CON: Or it could be exhausting because you’d have so much to catch them up on.

Hello, Pop Culture waits for no one!

So I guess the jury is out. With a FOB, you gain some -you lose some. It all comes down to a matter of personal taste (and patience), right?

thoughts on our new look? sexandfessenjoon@gmail.com

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tweet me: @saaghi_joon

FOB/noFOB,

SAAGHI ساقی

They Call Me Girl, That’s Not My Name

I don’t remember the exact day I realized that being called “girl” was demeaning. I wish I could say it was one particular scenario in which I felt infantilized, but it is very likely that I slowly came to the realization that I am indeed a woman.  I was ecstatic when I turned thirteen, and expected everyone to address me by my new age group; teenager. With age comes pride and the feeling of accomplishment; whether it is an actual accomplishment or the feeling of having survived:

the feeling that you are closer to being autonomous, emancipated, and in control of yourself.

As a Latina, I dreamed of the day I would be a Quinceañera; meaning “one who is fifteen years old” in Spanish. A Quinceañera party is not just a big hoopla, it is a rite of passage from girlhood into womanhood. My Quinceañera symbolized my development into a woman, and it was marked by a meaningful ceremony. The ceremony consisted of a religious service where I received a blessing and gave thanks for the gift of life.  My father changed my shoes from flats to high heels to signify that I was no longer a child, and my mother put a rhinestone encrusted tiara on my head to present me to the world as a queen.

My parents went through such an extravagant and expensive ceremony, just to present me to the world as no longer a girl, but a woman.

Embracing womanhood at the age of fifteen was historically necessary in the Hispanic community because it was the appropriate age for a woman to marry and bear children. In modern times, the idea that a fifteen year old girl is emotionally and physically mature to become a wife and mother is debatable, but the symbolism remains.

I didn’t feel as if I had an adult identity, or more specifically, an identity as a woman, until I finished college and entered the professional world. I was the only female, aside from a much older administrative assistant, in my department in an engineering firm. Being the only female engineer and the youngest person in my group made me realize that I wasn’t going to get respect just for being there, I had to earn it. I was immediately, the “new girl,” then “the girl working for…such and such,” and finally just “the girl that sits by the plan desk.”

It would have been inconceivable for me to call any of my colleagues “boy” because to do so would be insulting and suggests that they are incapable of handling adult tasks.

While I excelled in my career and spoke to all my coworkers as my equal, the term “girl” stuck with me. It was demeaning to have men who could be my father refer to me as “girl.”

Although I felt infantilized by my peers, I was more conflicted because I felt guilty. I call adult women, including myself, “girls” without giving it a second thought. Social outings with other women are a “girls’ night out,” and I cannot remember a time when I did not start an email or a text to a friend with the phrase “hey girl!”I have noticed that informally men and women are called “girls and guys,” especially when referring to adults in their early 20s, like most of the individuals in my social circle, and for this reason I do not see anything wrong with calling other women “girls” in an informal setting. It’s a playful expression of youthfulness, equal to “hanging out with the boys.”

But, I draw the line at calling women “girls” in a professional setting, or any setting where males are exclusively referred to as “men.”

It took me months to stand up to my colleagues about the way they addressed me, but it was the best thing I could have done for myself. Adulthood is messy and complicated, and no one truly wants to grow up, but it is part of living.

I am an adult. I am a woman. I am a self-respecting, sexual, independent, free-thinking, smart, feisty, woman.

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

FACEBOOK US

TWEET AT PATRICIA: @BESITO86

xoxo,

PATRICIA پاتریشیا

Note: This post also appears on Patricia’s blog, check it out!

 

How I Feel Around White Girls

Hello there,

It dawned on me recently that I didn’t have many white girl friends (and by many I mean less than or equal to one). I can’t seem to get one to stick around for the long-friendship haul and I’ve been searching my soul to understand why?

When I’ve gone out with them, I just feel like its quickly turned… boring.

The conversations revolve around things I just don’t understand. Normal Things. Like cute dinner parties as told by DIY-Pinterest Gods. That I’ve never been invited to.

Or new Half-Marathons to run. Which make me think of running the mile in PE Class…unfortunate memories

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Or new lifestyle diets. Paleo, Juicing, Gluten Free, Vegan— I can’t even keep up with what’s the latest. But if I brought that lifestyle home my Persian family would have a few choice words for me, “Ghormeh sabzi ya kooft bokhor” (Trans: or eat crap).

But honestly, JUICING? [Read more...]

Life After College Sucks _____.

Hello there Joonies :) It’s Saaghi.

By now, all the graduates of 2013 have graduated already. And while I’ve never had any long-term dreams of being a commencement speaker, I think Mary Schmich had it right:

Inside every adult, lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out.

I barely count as an adult, but I’ve hit that one year post-graduation mark where I really wish I could stand at a podium and rain on everyone’s festive parade. I’d like to tell my peers how it really goes down— because it’s not just about sunscreen. (is my bitter showing?) From what I gather after talking to people aged 22-26, I’m not the only one who wishes someone would’ve told them straight up that Life after College sucks. I’ve mentally noted some of the reasons, thus far, I believe that to be true…

Welcome Graduates of 2013 to the real world where ‘Confused and Sarcastic’ is the new black.

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I left the wonderful and fuzzy bubble of my undergrad years to deal with an extremely new lifestyle: a real job in a different city, away from home.  And right away, I hated it and I wished my Alma Mater could have taken me back for another 4 years. 

Things got a little better when I received my first paycheck, I felt like…

And it was all exciting, picking a place to live, being “independent”. But then this sudden sense of doom hit, and I realized somethings will never be the same. [Read more...]

Ari Melo: Make the Girls Say Hello

I interviewed Ari Melo about a year after I had started listening to him, and the first thing I wanted to tell him was “Thanks for helping me stay on the treadmill longer with your song “Breakaway” . Its just one of those tracks that you want to keep listening to, because every few seconds it takes you for a different ride. And all his tracks (see below) are available for a free download because he’s just that generous with the eargasms.

Ari Melo, also known as Arian, is a pretty mellow (random as he calls himself) guy. He loves his sister,  can speak computer code — and counts dancing as one of his favorite things to do. 

Overall, he’s one of those guys you meet and know that even when he makes it big, he’ll still shimmy at the Persian mehmoonis.

xx, Saaghi
ari melo wall

[Read more...]

Nothing Tastes As Good As Skinny Feels.

Hola,

2012 is winding down, and I almost can’t believe it. How does time fly? New Years is always an appropriate time for reflection (cliche but inevitable) and I’ve been thinking more about myself, 10 years ago… It might be because my Pandora is set to 90s music? But when you’re 18, you can’t really reflect on what it was like when you were 8.  Now I’m at that age, where I remember what it was like 10, 8, 5 years ago. I remember why I thought the way I did, and why I did the things I did. And with all those memories– I can’t help but feel weird. Is that what happens when you get old– your younger self starts to become a bigger shadow?

Jeez, can I please not get old? #fountainofyouth

Anyway, the more I think about Saaghi circa early 2000s, I realize I haven’t confessed something that really haunted/dogged me for most of those years: My Body.

It’s no secret that Persians are very vocal about weight — “topol” (chubby) is a word that’s just tossed around, almost endearingly, but for a 13 year old girl– that word is damaging.

At least that’s how I felt about it. As a kid, I was never aware of what my body looked like to others. But when I hit puberty, and I had chipmunk cheeks, I was growing boobs, and I was all sorts of awkward–well, I became very aware of what my body looked like from the outside.

People’s comments only reinforced my insecurities and by the time I got to high school, I had also eaten my insecurities. [Read more...]

Sex & Fessenjoon, 2012

HALLO.

It has been so long, and I wanted to say:

It’s not you, it’s me.

Really, work has swallowed me whole sorta. and its making me all sorts of LOOPY– like the other day, I watched 13 going on 30 all by myself (I hate chick flicks) and cried. Or that I spent Sunday shopping for limited edition Disney DVDs? Farrah says it might be because my life hasn’t been very emotional lately– and I think that is code for: its about that time for a douchebag to break my heart again.

Anyway, my sincerest apologies to you joonies, for my cold absence.  And if thats not enough, please accept this amazing Calvin Harris song– after writing this post, I’ll be dancing naked to it in my empty apartment. #baller

And I hope all the people out on the East Coast ( and NJ–where I grew up)– are keeping safe. I know there are many ways to help in the relief effort, but even if you have only two minutes– text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10.

Now I’m not going to assume that all you joonies are reading from the land of the free, home of the brave- Amrika. But its a big day tomorrow– Election Day 2012, OBAMA VS. ROMNEY. Fight to the death.

Just kidding. Although I’d pay-per-view that any day.

I think Elections are exciting. I was 15 when I worked on my first campaign, going from house to house– “canvassing”.  I couldn’t wait to vote, and when 2008 came around, I made my way to the polls and kept the “I Voted!” sticker as a souvenir.

Call me sentimental, call me idealistic, but I still believe voting is empowering. [Read more...]

Texts from Daddy Joon

Hola,

SO while I’m usually this tree of grandmother-ly wisdom (ha) and hardcore feminism (out of bras to burn). Today, I’m going to be that awkward Persian Girl with an embarrassing Persian Father.

A lot of my friends love my dad. They think he’s hilarious, and it looks like, from some of the comments, some of you joonies think he’s kinda funny too.

Well, it’s all fun and games til it happens to you.

1. Texts From Daddy Joon: [Read more...]

IPANEEMA: I Love When Bitches Don’t Text Back

At S&F, we love finding those Irooni kids who are doing exactly what they shouldn’t be- comedy, film, stripping… But if it’s music, then we’re even more hooked. Clearly you joonies were as well, when we shared this young producer’s Rack City Remix in an earlier post (and below). I got the chance to interview IpaNEEMA (yes, his name is Neema)– at his studio, where he makes all kinds of magic happen.

While Neema insists  he’s a ‘weird kid’, I think he’s just a bit different because he’s never told a lie and he believes in earning over entitlement – but quite frankly, those are great reasons to be weird.

But in all honesty, I hope this interview captures the passion and strong morals that make Ipaneema– and it impresses you all as much as it impressed me. I know he’ll be size 42 font and causing lots of eargasms in the future. (read for explanation).

Oh, and the fact that he’s disgustingly talented also helps.

Enjoy the music Joonies.

xx,

Saaghi

IPANEEMA: THE ANTI DOODOOL-TALA.  

[Read more...]

Vacation with the Crazies

Holla for dollas.

Its been awhile, maybe because I’m on a family ‘vacation’ a.k.a ‘Not-a-vacation

(there are absolutely no Iranians where I am, or black people)

I know the past few posts may make me sound like I hate my family, but lately, I’ve been suffocated with so much FAMILY that I keep getting flashbacks of scarring memories from my childhood– and I just need to air it out on the therapists’couch I call #SEXANDFESSENJOON.

You see, I’ve been blessed with a great family. They truly are the three C’s: caring, compassionate…and CRAZY.

Each of them are CHARACTERS. Each with their own exclusive problem-OCD, ADD, ANXIETY, ALL OF THE ABOVE- and each with their own exclusive way of ‘communication’. Its truly an Irooni- Wes Anderson movie. I’ll leave ‘character bios’ for another post, maybe it is time you joonies MET THE FAMILY (omg, are we there yet? such a huge step).

For now, let me tell you a bit about PERSIAN Family Vacations: SAAGHI style. 

 I hate them. Absolutely dread them like Herpes. and each one I’ve gone on, I have vowed it would be my last (ACTUALLY, we all vow it will be our last)– but of course, we get guilt tripped into the next one.

My experience has taught me one important lesson: Never leave home without earplugs and xanax.

[Read more...]

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